


Odd Cavities

by orphan_account



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dessert & Sweets, Gen, Getting Together, M/M, Short, but also slightly creepy crack, of a sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27492958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Light is decidedlynotaffected by L's sweet tooth.
Relationships: L & Yagami Light, L/Yagami Light
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	Odd Cavities

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt: [100 words of sweets](https://fail-fandomanon.dreamwidth.org/458062.html?thread=2736912462#cmt2736912462)

There is much that Light cares about. All of it has to do with the world beyond his handcuffs, and none of it with L.

Light _certainly_ doesn’t care about L’s sweet tooth… how there is a predictability in the way his eyes sparkle after big bites of buttercream frosting – Italian meringue, not American or French, mind, and vanilla _bean_ only. That the detail has lodged itself in his memory is not Light’s conscious choice – the strange gleam in L’s eyes would be enough to put _any_ one on edge; the horrible way L smacks his lips while thrusting his favored spoon in and out, in and out of his tiny mouth would make _any_ one squirm.

Sometimes, when Light hears L gag, – a faint, choked sound – it takes all he has not to shove the damned utensil straight down the remaining length of L’s windpipe. No, that wouldn’t do. At best, Light would be caught cuffed to a famous corpse. At worst, it would prove to L that he lacks self-control: has murderous urges, could be Kira. But Light is _not_ Kira, and he’s just as sure of this fact as he is sure that L’s molestation of sugarcoated cutlery must be yet another plan to test his patience. His psyche.

For the sake of thoroughness (and to showcase that he _isn’t_ affected), Light decides to treat L to every delicacy available at the local pâtisserie. He plans on ordering a confection per day over the course of two weeks; on cataloguing L’s reaction to each. Light doesn't _care_ , no, but he feels somehow certain it will come in handy… that any information about L could be used to his advantage. (It isn’t a matter of importance that Light doesn’t yet know _just_ how.)

He has gotten through black forest gâteau, chocolate mousse, crème brûlée and fraisier before the woman on the other end asks if he has a girlfriend.

“Or a wife!” she corrects amicably without giving Light a chance to say no. Her thin voice rises in pitch as she informs him about their discounts: Only three in a year – Christmas, Valentine’s, and White Day! Unfortunately, Light is too late for the first two. Nonetheless, he is a valued customer and can still qualify for their White Day special! All he has to do is visit the store in person with his girlfriend! “Or your wife, Sir, I’m sorry for assum—”

Light turns in his chair to hang up the receiver, but it’s only to find himself nose-to-nose with L, who chews the last of his pastry around an open mouth before swallowing. Loudly. Light resists an urge to do the same. L’s tongue darts out from his mouth; it dislodges crumbs stuck to the corner of his lips on its way to lap at invisible remnants of cream lingering on the fork’s tines. L shuffles forward on his haunches, bug-eyed, and Light leans as far back as his chair will allow.

“Light-kun,” says L, and his breath is sickeningly sweet where it tickles Light’s nostrils. L releases the fork after one last slurp, brandishing it like a child would a figurine, then rests it over Light’s heart – poised as if to spear flesh. “Light-kun,” he repeats, “have you been trying to court me?”

The monitors’ blue glow lends the gleam in L’s eyes a predatory tint; Light carefully considers a spectrum of possible answers. If he outright denies, – or confirms, for that matter – that will give L the advantage, allow him to follow up with yet another question. Indeed, as L’s tongue flicks increasingly rapidly against the fork, which he has once more raised to his lips, Light knows this is just what L is anticipating. They hold gazes for a second and then L belches – no doubt a calculated move intended to disgust him.

But Light can see through it. Now, he leans forward into the residual warmth of L’s burp. Light beams and, clutching L’s bony fingers that are still clutching the fork, he asks, “What if I am, Ryuuzaki?”


End file.
